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Written for the Casket.

THE DESERTER.

THE DESERTER.

"Manfred's heart was capable of being touched. He forgot his anger in his astonishment. He even doubted whether this discovery was not a contrivance of the friar to save the youth."-Castle of Otranto.

The human faces, done in water colors, were remarkably striking. The most prominent figures were, an elderly military officer of very commanding appearance; at his right stood another man little less imposing, but less aged, and in the full costume of a member of the society of Friends; before them stood a very young and most beautiful woman, with a child in her arms; behind the general and the Quaker stood a group of military officers; whilst to the left of the general, and behind the woman, stood a very young and interesting man, over whose head appeared the figure of Hope issuing from a splendid cirvus. Strong agitation seemed to be the prevailing expression of the piece. The general evinced hesitation; the old Quaker was. pointing to the child rather than to the mother. The countenance of the latter showed at once which could contend in the heart of a mother and the conflict of fear, hope, and every emotion wife. Every eye in the whole group around him was fixed on the face of the general, with the utmost stretch of anxiety, as if life and death hung upon the words he seemed ready to pro

Travelling leisurely along the road from Philadelphia to the Yellow Springs, in Chester county, on foot as usual; the sun was throwing his last rays on the tops of the distant hills, and richly decorating a long and dense bank of clouds which hung over the landscape down the Schuylkill. My intention was to lodge that night in the old tavern, called "The Bull's Head," near Valley Forge, let the accommodations be what Forge, they might. Nights beyond my power to number, had I slept lept in the western forests, with a block of wood for a pillow, and the foliage of the trees for covering, "and surely," said I to myself, "it will be delightful to spend a night in the Bull's Head-classic ground." But before I could reach my intended caravansera, my eye glancing down a valley nounce. towards the Schuylkill, caught the view of a white farm house amid rich meadows, and only seen in part through the luxurious growth of ornamental trees by which it was overshadowed and enveloped. Full half a mile from the road, it appeared a retreat, over which peace had thrown her mantle, not to conceal but to protect natural and moral beauty.

"Hospitality dwells in that mansion," whispered a voice, coming from my own heart; perhaps to-morrow night will do just as well as this, to lodge at the Bull's Head." My steps had led me some distance down the lane, before the friendly advice was concluded. On a nearer approach, the picture became more inviting. In an opposite direction, coming from the river, the deepening shades of evening, and their noisy mirth, discovered a group of young persons advancing to the house. In the piazza were seated a man and woman, both rather past the meridan of life, and both genteely dressed. At some distance from them sate a man white with years, but with that attractive and indescribable exterior which so strongly and distinctively depicts the aged remnants of the American Revolutionary War.

A fine house dog, with a bark which

seemed a kind of welcome, announced my approach; and I was met at a wicket-gate by the younger man, who was holding, the gate open when I approached.

"Your house, friend," said I, "has lured me from the road." And I briefly related the advice I had received, to put off my visit to the Bull's Head.

vice," said he, smiling, as he most cordially led "Some friend of my household gave the adme into the piazza, at the moment when it was

and from the position in which I sat, the light I could not keep my eye from the canvass; fell advantageously on the figures. I know not whether during the supper, or before retiring to rest, my deep attention to the picture had been. particularly noticed; but in the ensuing morn ing, according to custom, I was early up, and as the rays of the rising sun fell direct upon them, I was surprised by the old patriot looking man,

as I

was again intently examining the embroi

dered group.

"that you are one of those travellers who seek "You have told us," said the old gentleman, amongst the works of nature the still more interesting works of man, and the yet still more important workings of the human heart. You seem to be struck with that picture."

"It is in an extraordinary manner well executed," I replied. "If not an improper curiosity, would be glad to be made acquainted with the

I

subject."

"

"On one condition," replied the old man,. your curiosity can be gratified."

"Name it," I interrupted hastily. Without directly replying, the old gentleman opened a reading desk, from which producing a printed pamphlet, and handing it to me, he then observed, "You have expressed an intention to ramble over the Bull's Head. If you will accept a companion, these sheets will inform you who the characters were who are represented by those figures."

the hills about Valley Forge and

entered also by the noisy group I had seen com-ing erninence the views changed, and in succes

ing across the meadow. In a few minutes I felt myself at home. There are more, and much more expressive modes of welcome than by

words.

Night had closed, and we were sitting down to a very decent supper, when my eye caught an uncommonly fine picture in embroidery.

21

As soon as breakfast was over, the old gentleman putting on a white broad brimmed and low sallied forth to enjoy one of the finest series of crowned hat, seized a massy crabstick, and we landscapes in Pennsylvania. From every swellsion lay before us, the valley of Schuylkill in both directions, and the not less changing and romantic valley of Perkiomen. We had ranged over the spot the forlorn hope of human liberty, spent the dreadful winter of 1777-78, exposed to every deprivation and every hardship; whilst the British

pot where General Washington, with

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army, under Howe, was enjoying the luxury of woman he adored, and his two bereaved chila city in Philadelphia. With the local situations dren, struck a damp on the mind of Col. Hilland events I found my guide a perfect master; man. Mirth, joy, and gladness, were for a time

and hours passed for minutes, until we at length reached a very retired spot in a small wood between contiguous farms, with a fine pure fountain.

"This is not the first time I have sat down at this spring, with worse fare," said my old friend, as he drew from his pockets a small bottle of wine, with some ham and biscuits; "and here we must rest and refresh ourselves; and also, I must read to you the history of the family picture, which seemed to give you so strong an interest."

To this arrangement I most willingly consented, and our wine and provisions being disposed of, my friend, seating himself on a rock, with a tree for the back of his chair, displayed his chronicle, and commenced reading.

banished; but with a naturally ardent mind, and with the habits of a wealthy officer, the gloom gradually wore away from the mind and house of Hillman. In the second year of his widowhood, he was restored to the head of his table, and all the intrinsic follies of fashionable life were again introduced. His guests were, to use the absurd cant of the day, select-that is, they were gay and cold hearted; they flattered, expressed admiration, and hated each other.

His fame as an officer, his fine urbane manners, his mature years, and perhaps more than all, his wealth and wine, gave Col. Hillman great standing in his country. His son Laban, at every vacation in his studies, was brought into this dangerous atmosphere, where the trappings of war dazzled the eye, and the constant ro hearsal of battles seduced the mind. The high sounding German names of fields whereon, in two wars, the British name had been illustrated, were daily echoed in the hall of Hillman House. It was the poetry of history, the flashing colours of romance, made up in a honeyed mixture, and pesented to the lips of youth-a chalice of poison to moral nature. The total absence of all rational objeet in either war-and their consequences, murder, hunger, poverty, and death, amid ruin, were lost in shading. Happily the British nation was not then in war, and as he they are strangers in a strange land. Their often affirmed himself, "Thank God! Laban Hillman did not become a scourge to his species."

The diamond is hard to cut; but the imprint once made, is as difficult to efface; the motto and gem are only to be destroyed together. There are hearts of such composition, that like the diamond every impression endures with the existence of the bosom in which its pulses beat. There are again minds, which, however strong in other respects, cannot or will not, if once deluded in any pursuit, risk their happiness or peace on a road which they have found beset with snares. Those beings are cast amongst their fellow men as mariners from a wreck, but

thoughts are afar on the ocean, which conceals in its mighty and fearful bosom their forever lost treasure. Such a man was Laban Hillman. Some years before the opening of the American Revolutionary War, came to Chester county a member of the Society of Friends. He was an Englishman, about thirty years of age, of rather robust frame. He was without family, but was wealthy, and purchased a farm. In demeanor, he was grave; indeed, rather sad in his looks. He neither avoided nor sought society, but pursued the business of his farm as if he had never known other modes of life. Many gossips, of both sexes, thought him a mysterious being; and so he was to all but one, and from that one the following notes on his history were obtained.

The family of Laban Hillman, if not noble, reached the margin of aris aristocracy; were wealthy, and also respectable. In the of the man himself, " This might might be said, without vanity, as we cannot choose our own ancestors. The titles which the world bestows on us, it is equal folly to conceal or display. The humble appellation chosen by my father for his own family, was taken from an old family estate in Essex, England. I was educated to be a nuisance on earth-a soldier."

Col. Raburn Hillman was a very distinguish ed officer in the seven years war, and served under the Marquis of Granby in Germany. He had left a young and sorrowing wife in England, with two infant children. On his return to his fine estate, Hillman House was in mourning; he was a widower, and his son and daughter had lost their angel mother. The desolate appearance of his once joyous mansion, the loss of a

The peace of 1763 transferred the evils of war from the fields, villages, and cities of Germany, to the houses and families of Great Britain. Bands of reckless officers, poor in purse and morals, spread themselves over the nation. Many of these men, whom nature intended for better purposes, were personal acquaintances of the owner, and made themselves welcome at Hillman House-a house which better deserved the title of a splendid barrack, than that of a private gentleman's seat.

In this drama of idle gaiety, young Cæsar Brentwood was conspicuous in person and rank. Raised by family influence, at the age of twentytwo, to a regiment, and in full possession of an ample fortune, was, after Col. Hillman himself, the most prominent character at Hillman House. Laban as he perceived that Col. Brentwood, under an exterior of the most perfect polish and apparent candor, was cool amid revel, and reflective when others thought him careless to boyish excess. Artful in gaining the secrets of others, whilst extremely reserved on his own side. At the card table he almost uniformly lost in the early part of the evening, and almost invariably left the table a winner. Profuse in lavishing small sums, he evaded, under various pretences, ever lending money to any considerable amount, except under very safe security. Himself and equipage were splendid, and as an individual, an uncommonly fine person gave him great advantage, With such passports, afforded by fortune, and an understanding, if not well cultivated, not entirely neglected, he shone in society; and for so

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young a man, he had seen much and observed "For what purpose do you put on your great coat, when intending to ride, on a stormy or cold day?"

maturely: but there was one want, that of moral principle. He was a gambler, duellist, and seducer. He had gained, without any very solid proofs of their reality, a reputation for bravery in battle and liberality in peace. In a word, his character was brilliant and deceptive-an epitome of that of the time in which he lived-with some splendid exceptions.

To Col. Brentwood might be contrasted another inmate of Hillman House, Capt. John Marsham, a gentleman and soldier in the true intent of the terms. Grave, sedate, and unpretending, Capt. Marsham had risen to the command of a company in Col. Hillman's regiment. The son of a respectable clergyman, his education was sound; and having passed the meridian of life, his experience, well stored understanding, and dignity of manner, made him a most invaluable friend to a young man so dangerously placed as was young Laban Hillman. The son, however, of a dissenting minister, though a tried and accomplished officer, twenty years of service left Capt. John Marsham on half pay for support. As he neither gambled nor drank to excess, on any occasion, he made both ends meet; never incurred a debt, and though never splendidly, always decently dressed. He boarded with a clergyman, a cousin of his own; and though a most sincere friendship existed between them, Capt. Marsham rarely visited Col. Hillman. The day that Maria Hillman reached her eighteenth year was an exception, and on that day Marsham made one of a numerous assembly at Hillman House.

In the midst of the tumult of dancing, music, play, and small talk, as Laban was passing the observing veteran, the latter seized him by the arm, demanding with a smile, "What is the object of haste, Laban?"

"No object at present," replied Laban, "excites my haste. I am running from room to room because I see nothing to keep me in one place."

"Then take this seat," continued the captain. As Laban was seating himself, Marsham observed, with a something on his countenance between a moral remark and a sarcasm, "In one respect a ball and a battle have great resemblance."

"In what," rather hastily interrupted Laban, "can an assembly met for hilarity and friendship, resemble two hostile bodies met for mutual destruction ?"

"Wisely distinguished," answered Marsham. "Why, my boy, there is more of hostility now in these rooms, if numbers are compared, than there was on the field of Minden. In truth, the strong resemblance lies in the fact, that the parties, in both cases, seek the mutual destruction of each other with perfect indifference." Now seeing Laban ready to speak, laid his hand on his mouth, and drily demanded, " whether or not he had ever learned the use of the small or back sword-or whether he could or not thread a marlin spike ten steps with a pistol?"

Young Hillman, utterly at a loss to surmise the drift of his friend, sat in wondering silence. Ah! you are confounded at my seeming inconsistency, are you?" again replied Marsham.

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"To defend myself from the inclemency of the weather," replied young Hillman.

"To defend your body; yes, you are right; but do you comprehend? -But you will ere long," continued Marsham, not giving Laban time to reply; and quickly continued by asking, in rather an abstracted tone, "what do you think, young gentleman, of a ride with old Jack Marsham, to-morrow, to Rayleigh?"

"The very name," replied Laban, "recals sublime and melancholy reflections, and as I have never been there, I will accompany you with great pleasure."

Next day, after an early breakfast, the two friends broke from the hall, and were on their way. On horseback Marsham was at home, and by his instructions Laban had been made, at nineteen, also a passable horseman. Galloping over the plain of Chelmsford, they were both, but the elder in particular, in high spirits. "Now you are to know, young man," said Marsham, "for what purpose I have dragged you into rationality; did you ever hear of me fighting a duel?”

With some surprise at the question, replied Laban, "I have not." But I

have put a stopper on an impudent mouth more than once," exclaimed Marsham, "though I have never shed blood in a duel. It is my opinion that in these days, while the military mania lasts, a young gentleman ought to learn to sling stones to a hair's breadth, as he may meet a Goliah?"

Too young, and too much prepossessed with the mania, the old captain himself was laboring under, while declaiming against it, Laban assented with a very approving nod, and the old soldier continued.

"Yes, Laban, they have taught you arithmetic far enough to tell how many fingers and toes there ought to be on ten persons; they have taught you to write, so as not to be very easily read, and driven you far enough into the classics to set you at defiance ever to read your way out again; and they have, with the assistance of your tailor, enabled you to dress so as not to be laughed at. But after all, the only accomplishment you possess, to any purpose, is to sit on a horse, without danger of being laid in the rubbish at his feet. The useful part of your education you got from me; but I have not finished my work, you must handle a sword, Laban, and a pistol, boy; so that if any ruffian should give occasion-why, that the innocent may not suffer in place of the guilty."

Laban Hillman, like every other young gentleman of his time, who had any pretension to high life, had received lessons on both the weapons named by Capt. Marsham, but neither seemed willing to rest with such common-place skill. Laban, who would have abhorred the idea of being compelled to use the ability when acquired, would have been very much rejoiced to equal with the sword the admirable Crichton, or General Dixwell, therefore most warmly entered into the plan. plan It was arr arranged that, with

out any other person being made a confidant,

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every opportunity should be seized in their ex- | ceive her father and brother. As to the fete ercises. Two years then passed on, at the end being interrupted, the event would have been

of which period, Marsham pronounced Laban an excellent shot and a far better swordsman.

With that inconsistency, which Capt. Marsham shared with weak and bad men, he was in practice most powerfully fostering the spirit, whilst he was by precept declaiming against all war, public and private. "You can now, my gallant boy," said he to Laban, with sparkling eyes, "thrust an insult down the throat of any desperado that offers it; you can send, if necessary, a highwayman to his account; and better than all, if our dear country should be soon en gaged in a war, which, thanks to the madness of ministers, may happen, then his majesty and the kingdom may thank old Jack Marsham for rough hewing the block of an excellent officer." Time advanced with Marsham and his eleve,

as it did with Col. Hillman, and his daughter,

hailed by Laban Hillman, if produced by a less serious accident; but both father and brother saw at once, that something worse than common illness was preying on her mind. This suspicion was confirmed by her refusing the interference of a physician, and requiring to be left alone with her parent and brother; even her second mother, her old servant Bertha, was dismissed.

A dreadful silence of several minutes was broken by the distracted young woman exclaiming, "No! no! I do not deserve such a heaven on earth."

"My God, my child," sobbed Col. Hillman, what can all this mean?" And he clasped his daughter to his bosom.

"My father, my brother, do not-do not look so kindly. Oh! I cannot bear"-in broken ac

cents fell from her lips, as the sufferer attempted

the lovely and beloved Maria. At an early age to sink to her knees-"your Maria is lost

the effects of long and severe military service, became apparent on Col. Hillman-effects not left alone; he was verging towards the grave, under the double pressure of premature decline and apprehensions of ruin to his children. His days and once ample fortune were passing away together.

Maria Hillman was beloved by her brother more as their years increased, and at nineteen she was the admired beauty of Essex. Many, and some of them very advantageous, offers were made for her hand; which offers, as she was left to her own choice by her father and brother, she rejected. There was, on that subject, a melancholy reserve in her manner at variance with her character. The certain change in their fortunes the son suspected and dreaded, on account of his parent and sister. It wasa subject on which, it is probable, Maria never bestowed a thought; and thus stood affairs when her twentieth birth day came with the rolling years. Always on an anniversary, the old Hillman House was again fitted up; all who ought, and many who ought not to be, were invited. All was again bustle, revelry, and unjoyous confusion. Col. Hillman seemed revived by the recollections of by-gone years; but amid apparent gaiety, marks of deep care were visible to the eye of his son. In the crowded rooms there were two who could not sustain even the semblance of enjoyment; these were Laban and Maria Hillman. The music-excelent as it was, and enthusiastic as young Hillman was in favor of good music-had lost its charm. Beauty floated before him without being scarcely seen, and the most heart moving strains fell as discord on his ear.

Maria, though queen of the day and night, had a most bitter task to perform. Ever desirous to give, not diminish happiness, the devoted girl made an effort too great for nature to sustain; and in the midst of general noise, if not hilarity, was borne from the rooms to her own apartment, under severe illness.

ruined!"

"No, my sister!" fervently exclaimed Laban, as he replaced her on her father's breast, "whatever may be the secret, horrid cause of your despair, there are two who will not, cannot desert you."

These expressions seemed to her the voice of God. She raised her streaming eyes, and with a smile playing on her wan features-such a smile as must beam from a repentant spirit, when forgiven and received at the footstool of Eternal Mercy-she unburthened her oppressed heart to her two best earthly friends. She was, indeed, a fallen, ruined being-and Cæsar Brentwood was the destroyer. The disclosure was made, but not until the sister had obtained a promise to do no act of rashness. The father was indeed far beyond the power of revenging the injury done his farmily; his mind was sunk and broken, and the effect of despair was mistaken for resignation by both his children.

"The soul of thy sainted mother is pleading for thee, my daughter," said the feeble, but tender father, as he embraced his wretched daughter, and bade her adieu. "Rest in the goodness of Him who sees thy broken heart," he repeated, as he returned, and again pressed a father's kiss upon lips that never before had given him pain. He was then led to his room by his son.

Very different were the impressions made upon the mind of the son. "My sinless, my innocent, my precious sister, shall not fall alone," said he to his own breast. "Do no act of rashness. That promise shall be kept sacredly. It is no act of rashness to rid the world of a villain." This was indeed the sophistry of indignation; but the language of nature; it was the expression of a determination not to be changed. Without retiring to his own apartment, Laban returned to that of Maria, and tapping gently at the door, it was opened by Bertha, and he entered. His sister, now composed, thanked him with a smile, as he sat down by her bedside, and taking one of her hands, observed, "My dear Maria, do you think you could bear to set out with me me, to-morrow, for the seat of our aunt in Gloucestershire?"

The indisposition of the mistress of the revels broke the bubble, and the company dispersed. In the retirement of her own room, and there with the kind assiduity of her attendants, she soon recovered her spirits, so much as to re-earth."

"To fly with you, Laban, to the ends of the

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"It is folly, Maria, to conceal the fact, we must all soon quit Hillman House, wealth"

"Wealth, my brother," interrupted Maria, "what have we gained by wealth? Wealth! if I could go with you and our father into a wilderness, or be changed to a laboring cottager, how gladly would I make the change."

"In itself, it is," replied Laban, "as contemptible as many of its possessors; but whether a blessing or a curse, we are independent of Hillman estate. I this day received letters from Gloucestershire; our Uncle Sommers has left us an ample fortune."

The last duties were paid to the remains of Col. Hillman. His estate was given up to his creditors. Not the slightest suspicion arose of the true cause of the illness of the once lovely and flattered Maria-but she was deserted. Those who, in her sunshine of prosperity, fluttered around her, did her now a most consoling service, they fled her presence. The former sounds which floated from room to room in Hillman House, left no echo. Silence reigned over the scene, or was broken by the thrilling but mild voice of true friendship. Of the inmates of the family one was left, Capt. John Marsham; and of the crowd of servants one remained, the oldest, Bertha.

The next morning, as soon as possible, Laban was again with his sister; but a new and dreaded calamity was to fall upon this devoted family. The son was summoned to his father, and found him a prisoner in the hands of a sheriff's officer. ed their wages. "I paid them," said Laban,

The very day after the interment of Col. Hillman, the servants, with one exception, demand"and saw one mercenary gang follow ancWith the servants Bertha did not appear, but

The once brave and fearless Col. Hillman was
seated in his arm chair, his gray locks in disor- |ther."
der, and his still noble features the picture of
despair. The events of the last twenty-four being sent for came, with a respectful dig-

hours had nerved the son to meet any ordinary calamity with utter indifference; loss of property would not have weighed with him a feather; but to see his kind and too generous father thus, was too much; and falling on his knees, clasping the trembling hand of his parent, exclaimed, My father, my father, let them have your houses and lands; leave this circle of ingratitude, and with your children; I have plenty ty for us all."

The eyes of the veteran had been fixed in vacancy, but the tender voice of his son recalled his fleeting faculties; tears came to his relief as he laid his head on the shoulder of his child, faintly ejaculating, "Oh! my ruined children, you were always good, obedient; Maria, where is Maria?" He then raised his head, but for a moment; it fell again on the shoulder of his son, and Laban Hillman received into his bosom the last sigh of his father.

The very young officer perceived the catastrophe before Laban could believe the reality of his loss; not yet steeled against pity, the representative of law beheld the scene with sincere emotion, and took the very proper liberty of ringing for the servants. With them entered Capt. Marsham.

"My father, my sister," exclaimed Laban, "Marsham, I must be the messenger"

"Fly to her," hastily exclaimed the old soldier, "leave me here."

And Laban was, in a few moments, standing the image of wretchedness before Maria. As if some unseen and unheard messenger had brought the terrible truth, the terrified girl exclaimed, "Our Father."

"Is happy and well," breathed Laban, as he pressed his sister to his bosom. "We are alone in this world Maria."

"My murdered father," screamed the horror struck daughter, " I have murdered my father." "No, my sister," soothingly replied Laban, " of what you accuse yourself you are innocent. Your name was the last word which fell from the mouth of your parent; a blessing was on his face, and no doubt in his heart. We are orphans, Maria; and in a few days, I hope will be beyond the reach of ever again seeing the heartless, bloodless throng, who have"

nity above her station. To the offer of her wages, which was made, with pain and reluctance she replied, spreading out her arms, "Master Laban, on this bosom, within these arms, yourself and sister were nursed-what have I done that I must be driven from you?" And without waiting a reply, she burst into tears, and returned to the apartment of her

mistress.

"Such a world ought to be"-roared Capt. Marsham, who was present at the elevated display of affection shown by the aged nurse, "if God's choicest blessings were not brought down upon it by a few-one piece of gold will often repay us for turning up much rubbish." Не then rose and strode several times across the ample saloon, where they were sitting; but at length stopping before young Hillman, exclaimed, "Laban, it is time to talk of worldly matters. It is nonsense to march round and round when the field lies open before us. You are reduced to half pay. Pshaw! what of that? So are thousands. There is no benefit of talking unless we use the plain truth. What are you going to do, boy?"

Laban was well aware of the drift of the old veteran; he well knew that a proposal to share old Jack Marsham's rations was the ultimate manœuvre, and if all romance had not been banished by the most weighty and pressing misfortune, some amusement might have followed; but as matters stood, young Hillman, fixing his grateful looks on the earnest face before him, replied:

"My dear old friend, for such you have always been, to a truth beyond what most men can conceive; it was only yesterday I found amongst my father's papers, that the gash that adorns your head was received in rescuing your colonel from an overwhelming enemy. That colonel is gone, and has left his son to repay his debt. I am not reduced to half pay-I am a too wealthy man. My Uncle Sommers, in Gloucestershire, is dead, and 1 am his heir."

While this disclosure was making, the old man stood the image of astonishment and delighted surprise, and at its close broke out into a paroxysm beyond any thing Laban could have ex

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